


Meatlover

by JustVisible



Series: When the Devil Cries [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Homeless Nero, M/M, Rentboys, Slutty Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustVisible/pseuds/JustVisible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoroughly humiliated and more desperate than ever, Nero made off as if he was really giving in and leaving. The moment he was out of sight, he dashed down an alley way and tried to find another way to enter the building. When Nero’s in the mood, he’s damn well in the mood, and nothing was gonna get in the way of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meatlover

If any of his friends ever wondered why Nero always called from pay phone, they didn’t show it. Nero didn’t own a mobile and didn’t like calling from home phones, always wanting to use as little of other people’s money as possible. So when he called Credo, asking if he could stay at his vacant flat for a little while, there was no questioning, just a short ‘yeah, sure’ and a list of chores that will need doing.

He collected his backpack from his last friend’s house — a fellow whore he’d worked the corner with a couple of months back — and walked over to Credo’s. He let himself in with a key behind a loose brick. First things first, he fed the fish. Second things second, he dropped the backpack and collapsed on the couch, trying to see if he could catch some z’s. It didn’t work, he was wide awake, no matter how much his eyes hurt and how dark he knew the bags under them were. He got up and moved around a bit, brushing his teeth at one point. He found himself looking at the time a lot. It was still early in the morning. He flicked over the money he’d earned from Dante a couple of nights back, listening to the soft rustling they made. He’d never earned so much cold hard cash from a single John before. A surprise really, he had no idea where Dante got his money and expensive car, what with a business that was only just starting. Good planning, maybe, or bad debts.

He laid back down on the couch after he put the money in a safe pocket inside his bag. He closed his eyes, trying again for sleep. No success, instead his mind wondered through the events of the past few weeks. His filthy side was pawing over his memories, shuffling them around, stopping to drool over the especially raunchy ones.

There are two kinds of encounters, ones Nero remembers fondly and ones he wished never happened.

His demon picked out one he liked, flipping the switch and sending electricity through his nerves. He couldn’t stop himself from zipping open his fly and getting right down to business, a stupid grin on his face as he gorged the image of Dante sweating on top of him.

 

* * *

 

A couple of passing women gave him a few looks, of which he returned politely, until they saw his tattoos and decided better. Nero has a strange in-between look about him just like most renting punks; he could be young and fragile, or he could be prickly and shady. It all depends on which filter you’re using.

Another one was a man in a suit. He seemed to stall in his business strut across the road when he made eye contact with Nero. He was interested. It was obvious. The bleach haired boy just lent back against the wall and waited for him to scrap up the courage to come over and ask for a fuck. He watched, completely indifferent, as the business man shook his head of any and all thoughts before walking on, forgetting him like a cold chill.

Tonight seemed to be slow, as it had been for the entire week. He had given cunnilingus to a bachelorette; two blow jobs to one semi-regular who quickly got turned off by the cold of the street and the prospect of dirtying his flat with a homosexual prostitute; a bar fight that got taken outside then very suddenly turned into another blow job; and a first-time-anal session with a curious cougar. To be put bluntly, he was frustrated. The money Dante had given him was good, but it ran out. He needed more. Life burned money quicker than any fire ever could. That bloody demon too, the thing wouldn’t shut the hell up. It was making his skin itch and crawl, as if it was prowling in his very flesh. He scratched a tattooed elbow with a growl. He was five seconds away from grabbing the next on-looker, stealing their wallet then shoving them behind the dumpsters to fuck their brains out if that beast won’t quiet down and go back into it’s cell. He wouldn’t lie, if Dante passed him right now, that might just very well happen.

Dante hadn’t passed though. Nero hadn’t seen hind or hair of the white-haired john for a week. It’s not like him to get attached — and he damn well ain’t, okay? He just ain’t — but god damn, he needed a rut and that guy got him riled up and settled down perfectly right. He needed that. Needed that right now. So he started walking off down the stretch, trying to remember the route Dante had taken to his shop. What was it? Devil Never Cry? Something like that. He kept his eyes peeled for a pink neon sign. He assumed maybe the neon would be turned off, as surely the shop wouldn’t be up and running so soon, so kept on the lookout. As it so happened, it was actually open. The sign was big and bright and right in his face before he could even make out the words. Devil May Cry — that’s the one.

He could hear the music thumping loud and clear through the pavement as if there was a river dancing giant in there. He jogged across the street towards it. Halfway across the road the black-suit at the door was already giving him the stink eye, taking in his tattoos and his thin white singlet and basically telling him ‘no entry’ before he was in shouting distance. Nero walked up to him anyway with his thumbs in his belt loops.

“Hey there, is Dante in?”

“Beat it,” Came not-the-answer-to-the-question.

“If you won’t let me in, I’m afraid he will be, if you catch my drift,” He made a rude jacking-off gesture.

The bouncer just stared him down with a perfect poker face; apparently humour doesn't buy free passes, “I said get lost, man whore.”

Nero’s pride prickled at that, as well as something else, but he just raised his palms and said, “Alright, alright, don’t get your nickers in a twist, I’m going.”

Thoroughly humiliated and more desperate than ever, Nero made off as if he was really giving in and leaving. The moment he was out of sight, he dashed down an alley way and tried to find another way to enter the building. When Nero’s in the mood, he’s damn well in the mood, and nothing was gonna get in the way of that.

 

* * *

 

He’ll admit, the last thing Dante was expecting on a boring night of paper work in his bedroom, was Nero appearing on his balcony. Sure, a fantasy or two might touch on Nero coming through the door with a box of pizza and a rose between his teeth and not a stitch of clothing on, but the balcony? The balcony was three stories up; the only way to reach it is if you were a monkey. Nero seemed to be part monkey. He glanced over and latched on to the sight of Nero crouched like a gargoyle on the railing. He grinned impishly, before dropping down on the planks with a thunk.

He actually stopped and knocked on the glass as if he'd suddenly remembered social etiquette. His eyes were bright and mischievous as they took in Dante manspreading in his chair. The older man regarded him with amused shock, before getting up and opening the sliding door.

“Are you pizza delivery?” He asked.

Nero grinned, giving him a quick once over — just about drooling at the familiar red leather pants and ass-less chaps, as well as the lack of a shirt.

“Sure are: meatlovers, wasn’t that right?” Nero took a step closer.

Dante blocked his entry, but Nero had caught the scent. Quite literally. Dante just had one of those aromas about him, a thick musk that had Nero thinking about as clearly as a dog in the fog. It was a bit embarrassing that his cologne worked on him so well, but Nero could deal with that.

He rested a hand on Dante’s chest, “Your doorman wouldn’t let me in, so I had to sneak in the old fashioned way.”

“I see,” Dante laughed, taking his arm off the frame and allowing Nero in, “Well, I was just about to have a shower, you wanna join? You look a bit sweaty.”

Nero hadn’t even noticed but he was. He was drenched. At the mention of a shower the image of Dante dripping wet came to mind and had his eyes lit up like Christmas.

“Sounds good,” He said, already stripping and heading for the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Nero stood under the spray, absentmindedly gliding his hands over himself without really washing anything off, waiting for Dante. He wondered what he was doing, but to be fair, he had dropped by while the man was in the middle of working.

There wasn’t even a knock before he came in. Nero pushed open the glass door so he could gnaw on the eye candy a bit better. Dante had already stripped down to his birthday suit, ready to be treated with a healthy serving of pleasure. Looking at Dante, Nero couldn’t help but think he should be paying _him_ for the night.

Dante stepped under the spray and asked, “Mind if I join?" As if he needed permission.

“Not at all,” Nero breathed, before he even realised he was leaning in for a kiss.

He clung onto him as if he was a life raft. Dante groped Nero’s ass in both hands, kneading the thick muscles. Nero moaned into his mouth, rolling his hips so he could feel the friction of their awakening dicks against each other, before pulling his lips away to kiss along his collarbone. He darted out a tongue with every purse of his lips, wanting to taste his skin. When Dante’s hands removed themselves from his ass and glided up to his shoulders, Nero took that opportunity to drop to his knees.

“Can I?” He asked, his eyes begging, wide and starving.

Dante laughed, slapping Nero’s hands away from his thighs — upon which Nero kept them behind his back, obediently — and gripped the back of his hair, “You’re quick to your knees, kid.”

“I’ve been wanting to suck your dick since you’re car pulled up in front of me,” and wasn’t that the undisputed truth.

The line seemed to please Dante, because that grin just grew hungrier. Nero couldn’t keep his eyes up anymore; as nice as Dante’s face was, all he wanted right now was to lick the thick meat that was right in front of him. Dante noticed Nero’s distraction and began stroking himself. The kid watched; watched the foreskin glide over the head, watched the veins up the ridge that he so badly wanted to trace with his tongue, and he watched those fingers in the way that they worked, taking notes on what exactly Dante liked to do to himself. He started to tug against the grip on his hair, trying to lean forward and have a taste. He sounded almost impatient with the little noises he was making. Even as he struggled, his hands stayed behind his back, their only binding being Dante’s order. Somehow, the older man’s word was stronger than any physical restraint.

Dante loved this. There was nothing better than being so desired and being so in control. He loved that this boy was crazy enough for it that he’d climb onto his balcony and fall to his knees at the drop of a dime. He felt almost blessed, if one could feel blessed with something so damned. As much as he loved control, though, he didn’t have all that much of it over himself. Eventually he relented and let Nero dive in.

“Slowly,” Was all he said, and Nero obeyed to the best of his abilities.

The warmth of his mouth took him off guard and had Dante groaning almost immediately. The kid was good. Real good. Shit, as he went deeper into that throat, as smooth and as slow as Dante had demanded from him, he realised he was _damn_ good. Nero’s face was pinched with the most beautiful look of euphoria and concentration Dante had ever seen on a boy. He couldn’t stop himself from tangling his fingers in Nero’s wet locks and thrusting in to the hilt. The boy chocked, spluttering and squirming. After a moment his throat had relaxed and accepted the intrusion. A tattooed hand slipped from Nero’s back and fell into his lap to play with his own weeping member. Dante made no objections; it just proved how much Nero was getting off on this.

The little whore was making hungry little noises around his cock. The kid was in heaven — a very sick, very twisted heaven. A strained tear fell out from under those long lashes, which Dante brushed away. He pulled Nero back so the kid could breath. He took that small break to rub his cheek against Dante’s shaft, smearing spit all over his face. Dante could almost imagine him purring as he did it. He thrust back inside, forced his way in until his balls pillowed Nero’s wet chin. He tightened his grip in his hair so he had a good reign on the kid before he started to fuck Nero’s throat open nice and deep. The pace was just right for Nero’s throat to be able to mould itself around Dante’s cock. 

“Ah shit,” Dante hissed, firmly twisting his fingers in Nero’s hair, almost tearing the strands out from his scalp.

The kid just lapped it all up — all the attention and all the pain — as eagerly as he was lapping at the underside of his cock. He was lost in it all. Drool was running down his neck and chest, until he couldn’t tell the difference between spit and water. Dante’s member was surprisingly tasteless, none of the sharp bitter tastes he was use to. He could only smell it; smell his musk and sweat so thick on his skin he had no hope of blocking it out, only allow it to cloud his mind. Really, it was the texture that was irresistible. The way it felt to have that heavy meat on his tongue, shoved down his throat, stretching his lips…

…Down right _irresistible._

He had his eyes closed, but he felt Dante’s fingers come down to trace the bulge of his cock against his cheek, before cupping his chin in a way that wrenched his jaw open. With his head held by both hands like this, he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. He found himself wanting to beg for more, but there wasn’t anything else to give. Everything he could ask for was being handed to him on a silver platter, but still he was hungry for more. Or maybe he was just so accustomed to begging and searching for ‘more’ that he hasn’t been able to learn the word for ‘I’m happy with this’. Satisfied, wasn’t it? Wasn’t he 'satisfied'?

No…no he wasn’t and he knew exactly why. Because this was gonna end and he didn’t want it to. He wanted _more,_ damn it. He wanted more of Dante when this was over. So he gave it his all while it lasted, throwing himself into the boiling heat, moaning around his shaft and jerking himself off with calculated strokes, trying to stretch out the feeling for as long as possible. As the rhythm started to get erratic and Dante’s breathing came a bit more broken with the odd moan and hiss, Nero opened his eyes. He knew he was getting close and he wanted to see it; he wanted to see what this man looked like when he was coming into a boy’s mouth. He _needed_ to see it. He watched as the water dripped from his long hair, watched as his jaw tensed, as his brows furrowed over his pale blue eyes. He took it all in and engraved it into his brain.

Dante couldn't look away from the sight of a dripping wet Nero on his knees with his lips stretched around his cock. With those hungry, animalistic eyes staring up into Dante’s face, begging. His climax hit him like a train. He came deep in Nero’s throat so the kid barely got to taste it.

Nero quickly sped up his hand, trying to reach his own orgasm. It didn’t take long when Dante pulled out and lifted his face so he could watch him as he came. Being under someone with a presence this strong, giving him his full attention, it didn’t take long at all. He watched everything as Nero lost it and milked himself all over the shower floor, his voice echoing around the bathroom tiles. White strings of cum swirled down the drain with the water, cleaning itself up nicely.

Nero’s body suddenly went lax as he rested his cheek against Dante’s thigh.

He slowly eased down from his boiling high, the demon inside him sedated. His jaw hurt, his throat felt stretched and whenever he gulped he could taste semen. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ever felt so close to 'satisfied'.

The older man was petting his hair and he couldn’t help the little sigh when he felt those rough fingers brush his cheekbone with juxtaposed tenderness. He kissed Dante’s thigh, as if thanking it for the privilege of letting him rest his cheek there, than shakily got to his feet with Dante’s assistance.

With his lust finally fulfilled, it had collected it's coat and abandoned him. Now he was left feeling slightly awkward and insecure, standing in this shower with Dante. What the hell was he doing there? What possessed him to take so many god damn risks just to suck some guy's dick? He wiped his chin, grabbed the bar of soap and began to clean himself off with his eyes to the floor.

Dante took the soap, “mind If I…?”

Nero didn’t even hesitate; he just turned his back to him and whispered, “not at all.”

Dante washed his back with the same care he’d demonstrate while polishing a Greek statue. The boy was gorgeous, if a bit rough around the edges. Nero tensed when he heard Dante give a sigh, misreading it as impatience, or maybe anger. He swallowed — tasting semen — before piecing himself back together so his voice sounded more firm and brash as he asked, “You alright, pops?”

Dante laughed and the warm reverberation of it allowed Nero to relax, fully enjoying his hands as they glided over his shoulder blades, “Still on with the old man thing.”

“I’ll stop with the age exaggerations when you do.”

“Fair enough,” and after a pause, Dante said, “I’m fine, to answer your question. Just lost in thought.”

“How’d you get lost? Does the thought have a lot of turn offs?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” His soaped hands glided over his ass cheeks, lagging a bit there.

Nero blushed and rubbed his nose, still feeling a bit weird, “What’s the thought?”

Dante’s hands stopped on Nero’s hips, before asking, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Tomorrow Nero was going to see about taking his backpack and moving to a different friend’s house to squat. He would do the chores, pay for his own food and any water he’ll use, then probably hop back on the corner and try and catch another tall drink of handsome. Rinse, lather and repeat. Hop, hop, hop. Hop like a bunny through the day than fuck like one through the night.

Dante probably didn’t need to hear that, so he just shrugged, “Thinking about dropping by a friend’s house.”

“Can you reschedule?” Dante asked.

Oh.

Nero was getting a queasy little feeling about where this was going, but he squashed it down. Hey, regulars are good right? Just so long as they pay up. Besides, this is a pretty dang good-looking regular, if he chooses to stick. Not a bad lay, either. What’s wrong with that?

“Sure,” Nero shrugged.

“Good,” Dante gently turned him around so he could wash his front.

At the very moment when Nero looked up into Dante's face, something crackled inside of him and suddenly his demon was awake and hungry again. He was a bit surprised, usually that part of him would be sedated for a bit longer than this. Dante was looking over his body as he washed him off and hadn't notice the glazed over look in Nero's eyes. The kid glanced down between them at Dante's member, watched the water trailing down it, remembered how it looked hard and stiff. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be able to wait a second longer. Nero gripped the back of Dante’s neck and kissed him with the full force of his drive.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, a sane part of Nero told him this wasn't going to end well. The demon sicked on that voice before it could make another peep.


End file.
